[image: heralsdon.com.au]

Of witches, bards and things

I flexed my mighty muscles
at the mirror on the wall
Took a deep breath
much like Macbeth
As my pants began to fall.

Egads good grief and Gomorrah!
What a ghastly sight to see
Like a bad attack
of dental placque
Where a sixpack used to be.

How can it be the best of me
has slipped and gone away
Replaced by fluff
and pudgy stuff
Like a fallen cheese souffle.

Biceps triceps inspiring concepts
Come and save the day
Restore my youth
like a lion's tooth
Chase all this flab away.

Then far off in the distance
I heard a sweet voice say
“Fair is foul
and foul is fair--
I'm here to save the day.”

She was a thing of beauty
in rapt erotic form
my muscles quivered
as she delivered
le calm before zee storm

“Double double
toil and trouble
Screw your courage to the
sticking place and
we'll not fail.”

I gazed upon
her sticking place
It was a lovely sight to see
“By the pricking of my thumbs
something wicked this way comes”
she sighed and looked at me.

“To prick or not to prick?”
Seem'd like such an easy chore
Things at the worst will cease
or else climb upward
To what they were before.

“Go prick thy face, and over-red thy fear,
Thou lily-liver'd boy.”
Well, I tried
But she disappeared
Like an imaginary toy.

Nothing in love now do I feel
Hanging limp like a goose
Upon a dwarfish thief.
The devil damn thee thou cream-faced loon!
Where gott'st thou that goose look?

Ah life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets her hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot full of sound and fury
Signifying nothing.